smacks like a high five in my chest

by amy sharp


sometimes I think that I am misplaced
like an alien
because my heart is thumping
all the time
can't you hear it as I walk around
I am worried that other people have silent chest cavities
silent storms
I am worried that other people have a secret language


I press down on my chest 
a crude tourniquet
when I walk past you
afraid you will hear
afraid you will point
and laugh
afraid you will hear
afraid you will pull me into your car
and take me to any old border
speed across with me
and make me your own